


Hotel Camelot

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Orgy, Outdoor Sex, Realm Hopping, References to Drugs, Songfic, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by The Eagles' "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NTqZ347TKY">Hotel California</a>" where Camelot is the hotel, and Merlin is the visitor who stops for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Hotel Camelot (Such a Lovely Place)

**Author's Note:**

> When browsing the merlinhorror prompts, there were so many that I loved and wanted to do something for, but this is the one that had me jumping up and down screaming. Prompter, you are brilliant. I had so much fun writing this, and hopefully you like the way I decided to take it.

Merlin could barely see the road through the torrent of rain coming down. It was as if the sky were pouring itself directly onto his poor red Kia Spectra, battering mercilessly against the windscreen. Merlin squinted and tried to make out shapes in the darkness. Even with his brights on, the rain made it impossible to do more than guess at the general shape of things.

That was the other problem—it was dark as all fuck tonight, the stormclouds blocking any light the moon would’ve given. Out each window on either side of him, it was all black and darker black, the tumultuous sky a bit more grey than the solid mass of the land. Everything blurred together through the sheet of rain pouring down the glass.

But even vision-impaired Merlin could tell that the landscape was all countryside. Rolling hills and grassy plains stretched on seemingly forever.

The tyres on his car were terrible, so he drove at practically a crawl. Luckily this winding country road to wherever didn’t get much traffic.

Merlin chanced a look down, saw that the blue digital numbers in the dash read 10:43PM. He sighed.

He was pretty damn sure he was lost, because nothing he could make out looked familiar. At some point he had to have taken a wrong turn, or missed an exit, or whatever. Somehow, somewhere, he’d deviated from his usual route home from university and was now lost in the middle of nowhere, in the rain, late at night, really wanting a nice soft bed.

He leaned forward, hunching over the steering wheel, and squinted again. Was that a sign up ahead? It had the straight edges and right angles of a sign, or at least Merlin thought it did. He hoped it did. He increased his speed a little, hopes rising as he approached.

It _was_ a sign, thank God, and for a hotel at that. Merlin laughed, relieved and grateful for his luck. He’d phone his mum from the safety of a hotel room and let her know he wouldn’t be able to make it back that night, that the rain was too bad. It was good timing too, because now that he thought about it, he was starting to feel a bit tired, his head a bit heavy.

With a strange certainty he felt in his gut, he knew he just had to keep going, that there’d be nowhere for him to turn even if he wanted to. The long road he was on would inevitably end at the hotel.

When he saw the next sign declare HOTEL CAMELOT - 3 MILES, he knew he wasn’t wrong. He drove faster, and it was like he could already feel the pillow beneath his head.

****

The storm was less severe when Merlin pulled into the hotel’s lot, the shocks on his car making him bounce in the dips in the road. There was still a steady rain, but not so bad that everything was blurred. He could see, for example, that his was the only car in the lot. When he got out—and was immediately drenched—he could also see the brick building towering above him, Hotel Camelot.

An historic-looking building, but obviously modified to keep up with current modern standards, Hotel Camelot stood fourteen storeys tall, and was half as wide as it was high. That excluded the short, square turrets, of which there were eight. Each deep-set window had a light grey stone window sill, the same light grey as the turrets and the archway over the entrance.

Merlin couldn’t see how long the building was, but it seemed a large, grand structure. The lights in the windows seemed to beckon him, promising warmth and comfort inside.

He ran around the car to the passenger side for his suitcase, not wanting to spend a second longer in the rain. His clothes were already soaked, his fringe plastered to his forehead.

HOTEL CAMELOT, the text engraved in the archway read. Merlin opened one of the large wooden doors by the golden handle and entered.

The lobby he stepped into was spacious, the walls and carpeting both the same dark shade of beige. Dim lighting from the wall sconces made the place cosy, and deep red plush armchairs sat in front of a fireplace on the far side of the room.

To the right of the entrance, two hotel guests were seated together under a potted tree on a white chaise. The resemblance in features made Merlin think them mother and son. They were engaged in some sort of whispered conversation in a language Merlin didn’t know and couldn’t place. They immediately hushed when they saw Merlin.

Merlin ignored them and walked up to the receptionist, setting his suitcase down to speak to him. A white-haired, nearly bald, old man with an equally white beard, he gave Merlin the sternest no-nonsense look that Merlin hadn’t been subjected to since Year 11.

That was probably why, upon seeing the shiny silver bell on the counter, Merlin smiled gleefully and _ding_ ed it twice. The old man was not nearly as amused as he was.

“Good evening, sir,” the man said dryly.

“Good evening. I’d like a room, please,” Merlin said, still smiling. “It’s just me, and I’m just here for the night, so the cheapest room you’ve got is fine, thanks. The name is Merlin Emrys.”

The man clicked at his computer then looked up, his face far less stern. “It seems you already have a room reserved here, Mr Emrys. It’ll be eighty pounds a night—”

Merlin dropped his smile. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I don’t have a room reserved here. I didn’t even know this place existed until twenty minutes ago.”

_And eighty pounds a night? There’s no way._

“You have a top floor suite reserved, sir. You did say Merlin Emrys?”

“Yes, but that’s impossible! Maybe it’s a different Merlin Emrys.” He didn’t believe his own words even as he said them. The name Merlin was uncommon enough, making the chances of someone having his exact surname as well highly unlikely. Yet it wasn’t possible that it was him, it just wasn’t.

“Perhaps, sir. You’ll get the room regardless, unless you have any objections. It’ll be eighty pounds a night. Payment is at checkout, but we’ll need to swipe a card now.”

Merlin furrowed his brow and shook his head as he dug for his wallet, but even though he didn’t understand it, it wasn’t like he was going to complain. He was getting a room either way, he supposed, and a much better one at the same ridiculously low price. After his stressful experience on the road, he felt he did deserve a bit of luxury.

 _A top floor suite_ , he thought. _I wonder how big it is. I wonder how big the bed is!_

“And when is checkout?” he asked.

“Any time you like, sir.”

_This establishment is unbelieveable._

Suddenly Merlin’s stomach growled, reminding him that he’d been driving for hours and hadn’t had a proper meal in even longer. “Is it too late to order from the kitchen?” he asked as he pulled out his credit card and put it on the counter.

The old man chuckled and took Merlin’s card. “No, sir. The kitchen is always open.”

“Brilliant.”

His card was swiped and he took it back, slid it back in his wallet. By the time it was stored safely in his pocket again, the receptionist had disappeared into a room behind the counter to fetch something. Merlin could hardly believe it when he returned with an honest to God key, golden and a little tarnished.

“Room 1486, Mr Emrys. The lifts are just down the corridor to the right of the fireplace. Welcome to Hotel Camelot.”

Merlin took the key and put it in his pocket. He picked up his suitcase and turned toward the fireplace, glancing again at the mother and son before once more ignoring them. They resumed their esoteric conversation as soon as Merlin passed.

****

The lift’s interior was a smooth cream colour, the railings along the side polished mahogany, the ceiling mirrored. Merlin tried to shake off the uneasy vibes the place gave him as he pulled the antique lift door shut.

How was there already a room reserved under his name? What sort of hotel as large as this used long, golden keys?  How big would the suite be?

_At least it’s just the night. I’ll be out of this backwards place by tomorrow._

He reached out to press the button for his floor and paused. Furrowing his brow, he scanned the buttons again. There was no “13,” just a five-pointed star, the name of which Merlin couldn’t recall but that looked somewhat familiar.

Then he blinked and it was a different symbol entirely. Now it was an upside-down triangle with a line extending from it. A martini glass, he realised a second later. How could he have mistaken the shape for a star before? He was much too tired.

Was there some sort of club on the thirteenth floor? He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like, or why a hotel this far out in the middle of nowhere needed one. He shook his head and pressed “14.”

The lift ascended with a sudden jerk, making Merlin stumble and reach out for the railing. His heartbeat stuttered and he looked instinctively at the ceiling of the outdated metal box he was in, seeing only his startled reflection staring back at him. He tried not to think about what the shaft looked like, and failed. He bet all the metal was rusty and the wires frayed.

He swallowed and looked forward again, took a deep breath. He thought about his next move—phoning his mum. But before anything else, he wanted to get out of these soaked clothes.

_mine_

Merlin’s blood ran cold and he lost his grip on the handle of his suitcase. It fell to the floor with a thump, making the lift bounce.

He bent down to pick it up, only to hear the sound again, louder, before his hand even touched the handle.

_Mine_

Merlin stood upright and spun around. There was nothing but a map of the hotel grounds on the cream-coloured wall, all the exits clearly identified. Well, the lone exit in the front of the building, and the other leading to the courtyard.

Huh. A courtyard. Nice.

_MINE_

_ding!_

Merlin jumped. The lift lurched to a halt and he hurried to pick up his suitcase.

The door was opened for him by someone outside. Merlin’s heart stuttered again before he chided himself. It wasn’t like he was the only guest in the hotel.

However, he began to wonder when he stepped into the dark corridor on which the door had opened. It was scarcely lit, illuminated only by the occasional candle on either side. Where was the person who’d opened the door for him?

He walked a few more steps forward and paused, wondering if maybe this wasn’t the right floor. Maybe someone who was no longer here had just needed to get on, though, no, that didn’t make any sense. And he was certain this _was_ the fourteenth floor; the lift wouldn’t lie to him.

A little up ahead he saw a quartered parallelogram of strange, pale green light thrown across the wall and floor. It must’ve been a window in one of the middle turrets, high enough that the moon managed to shine some light in, but surely the colour was a little off.

A bolt of lightning struck, thunder clapping loud enough to make Merlin jump for the second time in less than five minutes. The wind buffeted against the building, futile against the solid brick, and rain lashed at the window hard enough that Merlin could hear it from down the hall.

“Sounds like the storm’s picking back up again,” a pleasant female voice remarked behind him.

Merlin spun around. The woman whose face was lit only by a candle in her hand was breathtakingly beautiful, with large brown eyes and a brilliant smile. She wore a thin, golden circlet atop her long curly hair, the filigree managing to catch candlelight and twinkle even amongst all the darkness.

“Hi,” Merlin said, dazed by her beauty.

The woman laughed. “Hello. I’m Guinevere. Gwen. Nice to meet you.” She extended her free hand and Merlin hastily shifted his suitcase to his left hand to shake.

“Merlin.”

“The top floor is set up a little differently than the others, Merlin,” she said. “It can be hard to navigate the first few times. Would you like some help getting to your room?”

Merlin glanced down the dark hallway just as another bolt of lightning struck. The memory of the voices he’d thought he’d heard in the lift sent a shiver down his spine and the decision was easy.

“That’d be great, thanks. Let me check my room number, I’ve already forgotten…”

He shoved his hand into his pocket, felt his mobile, then sighed and switched his suitcase back to his right hand, felt around in his _other_ pocket, where the key was.

“It’s 1486, right?” Gwen said as he pulled out the key.

He squinted to make out the numbers embedded in the tarnished gold. “That does sound right… Yes, 1486.” He blinked and dropped his arm. “How did you know that?”

“I had a feeling.” She smiled and gave him a slow once-over before turning away. “Come on, Merlin, I’m sure you want to get out of those wet clothes.”

Merlin’s stomach fluttered at the suggestive lilt in her voice. _Yes, yes I do, I really do._

He followed her into the darkness, hardly registering the faint, choruses of _Mine_ echoing from somewhere behind him.


	2. Livin' It Up at Hotel Camelot (Please Bring Me My Wine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** References to minor character heroin use

“So what do you think of Hotel Camelot so far?”

Merlin guiltily tore his eyes from her arse and looked intently at the intricate swirls in the carpet. “It’s a lovely place from what I’ve seen. Could have a better receptionist, though.”

Gwen laughed. “Geoffrey’s always got a stick up his arse. Don’t worry, it’s not just you.”

“Oh, good.” Merlin waited until they walked a bit longer to ask, “You don’t work here, do you?” He didn’t think she did. In a loose white blouse and a black skirt (or maybe it was purple, it was too dark to be certain), she wasn’t dressed like she worked there.

“No. My room’s also on this floor. I was on my way down to the lounge when you came up,” she explained.

Merlin was relieved. “So that’s where the mysterious button goes?”

“Yes. No rooms on the thirteenth floor, just the lounge and a bunch of storage.”

“What’s the lounge like? It’s open this late?”

They came to a four-way intersection and turned left. At the change in course, Merlin realised he ought to pay more attention to his surroundings for when he needed to walk about on his own.

“Oh, everything here is open all the time,” Gwen said.

“When do people sleep?”

Chuckling, she replied, “I’m pretty sure they don’t. You should come down though, when you’ve settled. Leon—he’s the bar man—makes excellent drinks.”

Merlin found himself nearly on the verge of agreeing when he remembered his plans. As much as he’d love to have drinks with a gorgeous woman, he had to get some sleep so he could leave at a decent hour the next morning.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’m only here for the night, and I have to get up a bit early.”

Merlin was a little disappointed that she didn’t look disappointed. In fact, her happy expression didn’t change at all. “I see. Well, if you change your mind, I’m in Room 1483. You seem really interesting, Merlin. I’d love to get to know you more.”

_Don’t do it, Merlin, you can’t, you shouldn’t._

He was sure his responding smile made him look like a hapless idiot, but his mother told him that was part of his youthful charm, so he tried not to worry about it too much. “Oh, yes, I’ll. Keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Two doors came into view out of the darkness, one on each side of the corridor. On the right was 1485, and though it was no different from any other door on the outside, there was something about it that gave Merlin a cold feeling. Merlin slid his eyes to the left and noted the 1486 on his door just as it opened.

“Hello, Kilgharrah!” Gwen said when an old man in a faded brown shirt and trousers stepped out of Merlin’s room. “Kilgharrah is the groundskeeper,” she explained to Merlin. “He was the first guest at Hotel Camelot, once upon a time.”

Kilgharrah had cropped grey hair and a sagging face, and moved as though it were an effort. He grunted in response, and left the door open for them before ambling sluggishly in their direction.

Merlin stepped behind Gwen, tightening his grip on his suitcase as he moved out of the man’s way. He pointedly avoided eye contact when Kilgharrah looked keenly at him, unashamedly staring.

“Welcome to Camelot, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said in a voice hoarse with age. “I’m sure you’ll find the room to your satisfaction.” He walked away faster than Merlin would’ve anticipated him able to.

“Sorry about him,” Gwen said, smiling sheepishly when Merlin turned back to look at her. “I’m afraid we have a few weirdos here. You get used to them. They’re mostly harmless.”

Merlin decided not to remind her he’d be leaving in the morning and simply nodded. Then, “Thanks for showing me to my room. Hopefully I’ll be able to remember the way out.”

“No problem, Merlin. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you around.”

The kiss she leaned forward to place was hardly on his cheek; her lips brushed the corner of his mouth, causing all sorts of funny feelings in his body. She half smiled up at him, dark eyes pinning his from under thick eyelashes, and walked off in the same direction as Kilgharrah, disappearing into the darkness.

 _Christ, wa_ _s_ she _a ten!_ Merlin thought as he turned to the door, working to get his arousal under control. _This place..._ _I w_ _ish I had the time to look around here. If only I could stay and use my holiday to actually give myself a holiday._

Merlin entered his room and shut the door softly behind him. He found himself standing in an entry foyer, the only light coming from a white table lamp on a glass end table to his left. He walked past a large circular mirror toward the half-lit open space ahead and flicked on the light. His eyes widened at the sparkling crystal chandelier above.

The sitting room alone was the size of what Merlin would’ve expected a normal guest room to be. A shorter, rectangular glass table was in the centre, directly under the chandelier, with a plush red sofa and chairs surrounding it. A bottle of red wine sat on the perfectly clear glass surface with an elegant golden chalice sitting conveniently next to it. The cup by itself was so obscenely posh that Merlin wanted to have an excuse to drink from it more than he wanted to drink the actual wine.

He set his suitcase against the chair closest to him and walked a quick tour of the entire suite. A kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom, a bedroom. The bathroom was a dazzling white, silver knobs and handles glistening, with a shower and a large tub with jets. The bedroom had a beautiful wooden wardrobe and chest of drawers, as well as a bed twice the size of Merlin’s at home. A bottle of white wine sat on the chest of drawers in the bedroom, that one with an accompanying silver chalice.

Merlin wished he had the time to enjoy it all properly—the jets in the tub, the wine, Gwen. He sighed and went to fetch his suitcase to bring into the bedroom. He took out a pair of worn grey pyjama trousers and a black t-shirt, towelled himself dry in the bathroom, and changed. His stomach growled impatiently as he picked up the hotel kitchen’s menu and began scanning through it.

Everything looked delicious, and everything seemed to be calling his name. Without even stopping to consider the price, he picked up one of the hotel phones and ordered a roast chicken meal. When asked if he’d like a complimentary dessert—chocolate cake with coconut icing—he happily agreed. As he hung up, his mouth was already watering at the thought of grilled vegetables and gravy.

Sitting comfortably on the plush sofa, his eyes fell on the red wine, the dark bottle reflecting the light. It felt like his hand wanted to reach out and grab it, to bring it to his mouth for him to drink from it. It was almost like he could already feel its warmth flowing through his limbs, making his body hum, and strangely, his dick hard.

Just like the food on the menu, it seemed to be calling out to him and pulling him in. His fingertips brushed the neck of the bottle before he even realised he’d moved, and he instantly pulled back, shaking his head.

 _The last thing I need to is be hungover early tomorrow morning_ , he told himself. He pushed himself up from the sofa and went to the bedroom to get his mobile from where he’d left it in his trouser pocket.

It was nearly dead, at 17%. What was worse, there was no service—apparently he really was out in the middle of nowhere.

Sighing, Merlin walked round the bed to the nightstand and picked up the hotel phone. He dialled his mum’s number and pressed the phone to his ear.

“ _We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled from the phone you are using. Please hang up and do not try to call this number again._ ”

Merlin furrowed his brow and lowered the phone to stare at it. What the hell? Had he heard correctly?

The call had ended itself, dropping into electronic silence, so Merlin hung up and dialled again.

“ _We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled from the phone you are using. Please hang up and do not try to call this number again._ ”

He _had_ heard correctly. What the fuck was with that message?

He tried his mum’s number again. He tried his uncle Gaius . He nearly tried emergency services but chickened out and tried a random number instead. Every time, he got the same message.

Frustrated, he slammed the phone down one last time and decided to give his mobile a shot. He doubted it would work, but he wasn’t going to give up just yet.

As soon as he turned the screen on, it beeped to tell him the battery was low. _Yes, I know, I know,_ he thought angrily. He crossed the room to the window, hoping that would increase the signal. It didn’t.

He tried calling his house again. By this point it was like it was taunting him.

“ _We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled from the phone you are using. Please hang up and do not try to call this number again._ ”

Merlin frowned down at his phone. As he did, he saw the battery suddenly deplete and the screen go black. He felt like he could scream.

“Fuck it,” he said aloud, tossing the mobile onto the bed. He went straight to the sitting room for the bottle of red wine.

There was no way to contact his mother, he had no idea where he was, he’d gotten soaked in the rain, and the place he’d ended up having to stay the night was simultaneously amazing and beyond strange. The whole evening had been complete shit.

As weird a circumstance as it was, finding Hotel Camelot and being upgraded to the suite were the only good things that had happened to him, and now he planned to make the most of it. One cup of wine wasn’t going to make him regret life in the morning.

He’d taken four large gulps (nearly half the golden chalice) when there was a knock on the door. He set the drink down and went to open it.

 _Just in time_ , he thought. _A lightweight like me definitely shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach._

“Hello!” a beaming, young woman greeted Merlin when he opened the door. Though Merlin would hardly call her a woman; she looked no more than sixteen, early seventeen at the most. Her straight hair was white-blonde, and in a high ponytail so tight that it pulled the corners of her crystal blue eyes.

Merlin smiled back and stepped aside to let her in. As she passed, pushing the cart with his steaming food, he noticed she looked frail. She was petite and her bony limbs made her seem a little sickly. Even so, she didn’t seem downhearted and didn’t move as though she felt ill. Pale as she was, there seemed to be the slightest bit of pink in her cheeks.

“I’m Aithusa, the maid assigned to the top floor. So if you need anything, feel free to ask for me directly.” She wheeled the cart all the way into the dining room, stopping it by the table. That was when her sleeve pulled up a bit and revealed a spattering of small circular bruises on the inside of her pale wrist. Merlin knew enough about recognising injection sites from the heroin-users at uni to know what they were.

“Thank you,” he said. “It smells delicious.” His stomach growled just as the wine seemed to hit, his balance tilting for a moment.

“It always is,” Aithusa sing-songed. “Will there be anything else, sir?” She looked up at Merlin with large eyes, all too ready to please.

“No, thank you. Oh, wait, there is one thing. The phone. There seems to be something wrong with it.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Phone, sir?”

“Yeah. It’s, um, not working. I was on my way to visit my mother and was supposed to get there make tonight.” Merlin blinked, heard his words replay in his head, and laughed. “Sorry, I had a bit to drink. Let me try that again. I was supposed to make it there tonight. I need to call and let her know not to worry.”

“Ah,” Aithusa said. Her mouth snapped shut and she pursed her lips as she considered something, looking at the carpet. “I’m afraid there’s, er, no way to fulfil that request, sir. I’m very sorry.”

Merlin felt another wave of heaviness in his limbs and ignored it. He did, however, put a hand on the back of one of the dining chairs for support. “What do you mean? There’s not a single working phone in the building?”

“No, sir. No way to reach anybody from here, sir.” She bowed her head respectfully and started for the door. “If that’ll be all, I’ll just be going. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

Merlin helplessly watched her flee, wondering what had gotten into her and if her supervisor knew about her drug habit. He sat down to eat (fell, more like, in his increasingly drunken state) and removed the silverware from his folded napkin.

He sighed contentedly and dug into his food. Everything on the plate was delicious, as Aithusa had said. He actually moaned a little bit at the taste of the roast chicken.

He ate his fill, and when he wanted more, he was elated to see the chocolate cake with coconut icing on the cart waiting for him. He eagerly moved it to the table and began shovelling bites into his mouth.

There was something off about the icing, or maybe it was the cake itself, but whatever it was, it didn’t make it taste any worse. In fact, it tasted better than any other cake Merlin had had like it. He wondered what had been added.

He was just finishing off the meal with a second cup of wine when the hotel room phone rang.

He jolted at the shrill noise. For two laughable seconds he was actually angry at the sound for interrupting his good mood. Then he slowly got to his feet and went to answer it.

It was as he was reaching to pick up the receiver that he realised a ringing phone meant a _working phone_.

What the fuck was going on with this place? Who the hell could be calling?

“Hello?!” Merlin demanded of the caller.

Nothing. Not even ominous heavy breathing, which Merlin strained his drunken ears for.

“Hello? Hello?!”

Still nothing, just static-y white noise. More annoyed than ever, Merlin hung up.

_Come on Universe, give me a fucking break, would you?_

Curious, Merlin picked up the room phone again and tried to call his mum’s mobile.

“ _We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled—_ ”

He slammed the phone down, missed and hurt his knuckle, then slammed it down properly. He sucked the scraped skin with pursed lips, starting to wish he was at home in his old bed.

He just knew his mum was worried. Not knowing where he was, if he was alright, she’d be just as anxious as he was about being stranded.

Merlin tried not to panic. He went back to the dining room and quickly drank the rest of his wine.

He was contemplating a third cup when someone else knocked on the door. Had Aithusa come back? Or was it Gwen, back from the lounge and wanting to flirt with him some more? He hoped it both was and wasn’t Gwen. He wasn’t at all properly dressed.

Walking wasn’t too difficult, but there was definitely more heaviness seeping into his arms and legs. He concentrated on not stumbling into anything as he went to the door to look through the peephole.

He could tell instantly that the man he saw standing outside his door was important, even in the gloomy lighting. It was in the way he stood, straight and self-confident. It was too dark to see much in the way of detail.

Merlin opened the door and the light of the room fell on the man’s face. Attraction shot through Merlin like a bullet, so much more than the pull of desire he’d felt for Gwen.

Calm, enchanting blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. Clean-shaven square jaw. Modestly athletic build. In dark blue jeans and a carmine red cardigan, complemented by a deep brown suit jacket, he looked even more delicious than the food.

Then the man smiled, lips spreading in a warm grin, and Merlin’s knees felt weak.

_This is more than enough to repay me, Universe, thank you._

It felt like every cell in his body was pulled toward this man, like the only thing it knew how to do was want. He took a deep breath and told himself to get a grip, that the wine was making him think with his dick again.

“Sorry to bother you,” the man said, and oh God, his voice reminded Merlin of a cello, deep, soothing, melodic. He seemed to resonate power, even while coming off as friendly and inviting. “I’m Arthur Pendragon, I own the hotel. Pleasure to meet you.”

Merlin smiled back and shook the hand offered to him. Another wave of desire crashed into him as soon as their hands touched. He felt winded by it, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, and he worried whether or not he was too drunk to keep himself composed.

He _had_ to keep himself composed. This was the owner of the bloody hotel and here Merlin was, a uni student in a top-floor suite, working his way up to being completely plastered. Not to mention the plastered uni student’s growing urge to throw said hotel owner on the sofa and ride his cock into the next week.

“Merlin Emrys,” Merlin said, hoping his speech hadn’t slurred and wishing his hands weren’t so damned sweaty.

“May I come in, Merlin?”

“Definitely. I mean, of course. Er, yeah.” Blushing, Merlin stepped aside and let Mr Pendragon in. He cursed the fact that he was wearing something so ragged and that he’d been caught in the rain like a lost puppy earlier.

“I see you’ve settled in,” Pendragon remarked, noting the wine and the empty plate on the table in the other room.

Merlin closed the door and joined him by the sofa. “Yes, everything’s lovely. I don’t know if you know, but I was going to get an ordinary room at first. Then the receptionist told me I already had this one reserved, or at least someone with my name did. Is that what this is about? I knew it was too good to be true, there was no way this room was meant for—”

“This room was meant for you, Merlin.”

Merlin exhaled in relief. “Oh, good. I mean, I still don’t understand it, but good. Sorry, I’m a bit tipsy, so rambling is prone to happen. Apologies in advance.”

Pendragon smiled at him, seemingly amused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. “It’s alright.”

“Right then, what can I do for you, Mr Pendragon?”

“Just Arthur is fine.”

Merlin had to look away from Arthur’s intense eyes for a moment, and ended up glancing down at his mouth. “Okay, Arthur.”

“I came to invite you to the lounge,” Arthur said. “The drinks are entirely free.”

Merlin’s heart soared. “I’d love to go!”

“Excellent! You’ll probably be wanting to change. Check the chest of drawers in the bedroom, there should be clothes your size.”

Merlin started heading for the bedroom. He was already opening the top drawer and looking for a shirt when he realised what he was doing.

He turned and found Arthur standing in the doorway, watching, waiting. His face was impassive, yet his eyes were gleaming and expectant. Merlin hated to let him down, and didn’t know what made him so easily agree in the first place. He almost didn’t have the courage to take it back, but hotel owner or hotel custodian, Merlin had to keep his priorities straight.

“Actually, I really shouldn’t. I’ve somewhere to be tomorrow morning.”

Lips pursed, Arthur nodded as though what Merlin had said was perfectly reasonable, as though he understood completely. Then, hands casually tucked in the pockets of his jeans, he crossed the room and stood in front of Merlin, looking him right in his eyes.

Merlin stopped breathing for a moment before getting a hold of himself. That magnetic attraction was there again in full force, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking a tipsy step forward.

Arthur frowned, his expression disappointed and a little pleading. “Are you sure you can’t join us just for a bit? Not even an hour. You could just stay twenty minutes, say hello to everyone.”

Merlin hardly registered Arthur’s words after his first sentence. There was something about Arthur’s voice that made his brain momentarily stop working. He struggled a few seconds to recall the rest.

“Twenty minutes,” Merlin said.

“Yes.”

“Alright then.”

Arthur grinned and Merlin turned back to search the drawer for a shirt. He suddenly wasn’t at all fatigued, and at the prospect of being in Arthur’s presence a bit longer, he found himself wanting to prolong the time for as long as possible. He had a feeling twenty minutes would fly by.

****

Merlin would’ve gone mad if the lounge were depressingly lit as well. Thankfully, it seemed this was the brightest place in the building.

As soon as the lift opened on the thirteenth floor, a set of glass double doors stood in the wall straight ahead, revealing the ongoing party beyond. Arthur stepped off the lift before Merlin and grabbed one of the brass handles to open the door for him.

Merlin walked forward, straightening his purple jumper one last time as he looked at the rectangular silver plaque to the left of the entrance. In the same style text as the name of the hotel engraved on the front of the building, the word AVALON stood out in black against the silver. Underneath it was a five-pointed star like the one he’d thought he’d seen in the lift before. He remembered now that it was called a pentagram, and thought it very out of place.

Music was spilling out into the corridor from inside, classical music with piano, strings, and a playful sounding flute. Merlin entered, breath catching in his throat when he felt Arthur’s hand unashamedly on the small of his back.

His breath caught for another reason when he took in the sight that was the lounge. After the mirrors on the ceiling, the first thing he noticed was that four immense glass windows formed the walls looking down into the courtyard, storeys above the ground. He walked forward, leaving Arthur’s side, mesmerised, and saw the pale green moon shining down into it.

The courtyard was magnificent. From what Merlin could see from above, there was a good amount of ivy, with candles lighting pockets of the garden. He could go down to see more if he wanted; a door in one of the wall-sized windows opened to the top of a black spiral metal staircase.

“It’s beautiful at night,” Arthur said, appearing beside him. “I think I like it at night best. But come on, there’ll be time to look at it later if you want. I want you to meet some of the others before my twenty minutes are up.”

Merlin let himself be dragged away, mostly because to resist meant losing Arthur’s hand on his elbow. They passed the musicians in a corner and went to the tall chairs at the bar.

That was when Merlin noticed the oddest thing at the hotel yet. Well, apart from the voices in the lift. He hadn’t realised it before, but maybe that was just because he hadn’t seen more than a few people at once.

They were all dressed out of time. Not just the group Arthur began introducing him to, but everyone in the room. The woman Arthur indicated as Morgana was in a red and black corseted dress; long-haired Gwaine was wearing a billowy white tunic and drawstring trousers that reminded Merlin of a pirate; Elyan wore a long brown coat with countless pockets, not unlike a merchant, and the lace that tied the V of his shirt was similar to Gwaine’s style. Arthur, in his contemporary clothing, stuck out as much as Merlin.

What had Gwen been wearing? A simple white blouse and dark-coloured skirt, Merlin was pretty sure. The people conversing quietly in the lobby? He hadn’t paid much attention, but he thought he remembered some sort of floral pattern on the woman, maybe a dress.

Merlin exchanged greetings with everyone, confused when they added things like “greed” and “envy” after their names. He felt the odd one out by just saying his name, and slipped back into silence while Leon prepared a round of drinks. He purposely didn’t comment on everyone’s odd attire, choosing to ignore it completely, and after a while, he hardly noticed.

All the while, Arthur’s hand was on him, if not on his shoulder, then on his back. Their drinks came, and when they sat down, properly joining the group, Arthur’s leg was an insistent pressure, intent not to lose contact with Merlin’s.

It seemed past the point of flirtation. Merlin worried if Arthur was not-so-subtly staking a claim by being so territorial of him, and if he should’ve been more uncomfortable than he was. He looked around the room, found no one else remotely as attractive as Arthur was to him, and figured being marked as taken by the hotel’s owner suited him just fine.

Even the barely clothed dancer at the other end of the room was no match for the magnetic force of Arthur Pendragon. Though she swayed this way and that, twirling and twisting her body seductively under the lights in a way that made Merlin have trouble looking away, Arthur’s touch kept him firmly fixed on wanting only one thing.

“Stunning, isn’t she?” Gwaine said, pulling Merlin out of his daze watching the dancer. Merlin turned to look at him, saw him leaning in his chair, arm draped over the back. “A right siren temptress, that Freya. You’re not allowed to touch her, you know. Makes the Lust and Greed people especially mad. Look but don’t touch, or she rips you to shreds. Lucky there’s always Gwen, eh?” he finished, elbowing Arthur playfully in the side and ignoring Elyan’s dark look.

The bit about Gwen went over Merlin’s head at first, but then he caught on. It explained why she went so far as to almost kiss him when she hardly knew him.

“Gwen?” Merlin said. “She invited me here earlier, when we met before. I haven’t seen her, is she here?”

“She’s in the courtyard,” Morgana said.

Arthur’s hand wrapped around Merlin’s thigh, fingers clawed just above the top of his knee. It was so abrupt and painful that Merlin gasped and whipped his head to see what the hell Arthur was doing.

“You’re here with me, aren’t you, Merlin?” Arthur said, low and dangerous.

Merlin got lost in his eyes. So endlessly blue, with the nearby lights reflected in the pupils. The warmth of Arthur’s merciless hand on his thigh seemed to spread through him like the wine, turning his limbs to jelly and making his cock harden in his jeans.

“Of course,” he said, putting his hand over Arthur’s. “I only agreed to come because you asked me, not Gwen.”

Normally, he wouldn’t have admitted something like that, and certainly not in public. What had gotten into him?

He blinked and looked away, saw Leon watching him from behind the bar. He looked down at the drink in his hand. How much time had passed? Was this his first or second glass of… What had he even been drinking?

A man coughed somewhere to Merlin’s left. The musicians in the corner finished their song and started the slow build into the next. A woman in heels clopped across the lounge floor, the sound cutting through the quiet murmur of ongoing conversations around the room. A clink of glasses indicated someone had just made a toast. A man further down the bar laughed loudly and threw his head back, sounding like a donkey.

Merlin listened to the noises surrounding him and still wasn’t able to ground himself. He felt like he was drifting. Had he been drugged somehow?

“I think I should—”

“Would you like to see the courtyard now?” Arthur asked.

_His voice, dear God, his voice._

Merlin hesitated, standing on the edge of a mental precipice. Arthur’s hand slid a little further up his thigh and his cock throbbed, blood rushing to fill it. He was going from half hard to uncomfortably stiff and pretty soon it was going to be obvious.

 _I have to._ Already his body was getting up, letting Arthur lead him away by the hand. _I want to. I want to so fucking badly. I can’t say no. I can’t say no to Arthur._

“Poor Merlin,” Merlin heard Morgana say as they left the group behind. “Arthur’s never going to let him go.”

“Does he let anyone go?” Elyan countered.

“He has on occasion,” Morgana said. “It’s certainly not common, and who knows what his criteria is.”

“Aye,” Gwaine agreed. “We’re all his prisoners, just some more than others.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Gwaine. If I’ve learnt anything, it’s that we’re prisoners of our own device,” Morgana corrected. “Arthur’s just an enticing devil.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Part of Merlin wished to linger and hear more. The other part was too preoccupied with Arthur leading him into the courtyard, down down down to the dark garden below.


	3. How They Dance in the Courtyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Implied Major Character Death, Voyeurism

It was a whole other world in the courtyard. Ivy was indeed in abundance, not only covering the brick walls, but trailing and wrapping around everything in its vicinity. It coiled around the spiral staircase, draped over the side, and fell storeys to the ground. It was nearly to the point of overgrowth, like walking in an enclosed jungle. Merlin loved it.

A stone pathway wound through the garden itself, lit up by candles. It was impossible to make out what sorts of flowers inhabited the space in the dark, but the aroma was sweet and pleasant. The foliage from the bushes sometimes took on shadowy forms that made Merlin a little uneasy, and he stuck close to Arthur as they leisurely toured the grounds.

“How is it all dry?” Merlin asked.

“Hmm?” Arthur looked like he too had been in a daze, wrapped up in nature’s calming embrace.

“It was raining earlier. Nothing here is wet.”

Turning to Merlin, Arthur smiled softly. Merlin’s hand still in his, he gave a gentle squeeze, making Merlin forget everything but the beautiful way candlelight flickered over Arthur’s sharp features.

“This place is special,” Arthur nearly whispered. “Time works differently here.”

The words were fuzzy. Merlin heard them, but it was as though they were without meaning. He nodded and said, “Oh. Okay.” They walked on.

Deep in the centre of the courtyard, Merlin began to hear strange noises. Or rather, he began to notice something different about the noises that he’d been hearing already. What he’d thought was the wind rustling the plants was in fact heavy breathing, sighs of unmistakable pleasure. He tilted his head, lifting his ear up, and strained to hear more closely.

“ _Oh, oh—yes, yes, harder_!”

People were making love in the dark recesses of the garden. And it wasn’t just one couple, but many of them. Now that they were in the thick of it and Merlin’s head was out of the clouds, he heard more than just sighs. Moans and the sound of slapping flesh pierced through the otherwise peaceful night.

He turned his head in all directions, looking around as he and Arthur walked further back. Glimpses of bodies entwined in the undergrowth, the thrusting of hips in scarcely lit alcoves, stray limbs in the air visible from behind a bench. The further in he walked, the louder the sounds of the outdoor orgy became.

His heart started racing. This shameless display of lust made him wonder where Arthur was taking him, and what they were going to do. He was definitely the sort of person who hooked up with someone not two hours after meeting them and hoped he’d be able to satisfy himself as much as it sounded like everyone else was.

He wondered how much time had passed, and struggled to remember anything from before entering the hotel, the memories vague and blurry. He only knew that his body was reacting to the scenes around him, and that he wanted to give in to his desires immediately, to be taken by Arthur and experience the same pleasure as everyone in this frenzied courtyard.

They passed more dark alcoves, more half-hidden niches in the brick walls for people to sit. Everything was either in complete darkness, or the flickering half light of candles. The moon, though shining bright above, was almost entirely blocked out by the ivy.

“Arthur,” Merlin said. He couldn’t take it anymore. His body temperature had risen and he had a sudden need to be out of his clothes. His cock pulsed with desire every step he took, and it was painful holding his urges in check.

Arthur looked at him, looked down and saw his erection, then quirked a smile and jerked his head in the direction of an empty pocket of moonlight-dappled grass to the left, right next to an ivy-covered wall. Exhaling in relief, Merlin nodded and followed Arthur off the winding stone path.

As soon as they entered the intimate darkness, Merlin’s ability to hold back crumbled. He slammed into Arthur, dimly grateful that he hadn’t knocked Arthur too far backwards in the process. Arthur’s hands grabbed Merlin’s hips and he hungrily went at Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin slid his hands under Arthur’s suit jacket and ran flat palms up his chest, over the red cardigan; he felt the firm body beneath it and wanted it pressed up against him. So he dug fingers into Arthur’s sides and pulled him closer, desperately, shamelessly, rolling his hips to rut into him.

He let out a wrecked “ahh” when Arthur quickly undid his jeans and pulled them to his knees. He felt so much better with his cock freed, the breeze of the night air helping to ease his urgency for a bit. Just as efficiently, Arthur had himself bared, and dropped to his knees to take Merlin in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Merlin breathed, his head falling back in bliss. He moaned at the sensation of hot tongue swirling around his dick, and when he throbbed hard Arthur’s lips only wrapped tighter around him to suck more. Expert fingers massaged Merlin’s balls, and Merlin pulled the bottom of his shirt up to hold bunched in his hand for a better view of Arthur determinedly going down on him. Without consciously thinking about it, he started rocking his pelvis in Arthur’s hand, sliding his cock between Arthur’s stretched lips. He was able to keep his movements slow at first, but he soon picked up speed. He gasped for breath and tried not to come apart completely as he fucked Arthur’s eager mouth with everything he had in him.

In letting his gaze drift toward the sky, they ended up wandering the shadows around him, and his eyes fell on another tryst nearby. They were closer to the path, on the fringes of the ring of candlelight that illuminated them just a little better than those couplings Merlin had caught glimpses of before. He could just barely make out Gwen, her golden circlet twinkling even now.

She was on her knees, bouncing in the lap of a thick-bodied, bald man who knelt perched on knees and toes behind her. Hands cupped and squeezed her round breasts, the bald man biting savagely all across her shoulders and neck as he wildly fucked up into her.

“Oh God, Alator, yes, _yes_ ,” Gwen moaned, rubbing circles between her legs.

Merlin moaned as well when Arthur’s clever tongue twirled around the head of his dick and pressed flat up against it, licking the slit. The hand on his balls left, but another wrapped around the base of his cock.

Nearby, another man-shaped shadow, stroking a large cock, stepped in front of the kneeling Gwen. Merlin watched as he eased into her mouth and down her throat, his own cock twitching and the tightness in his thighs increasing.

It wasn’t long that she sloppily sucked him off, the motions of the man still fucking her disrupting her rhythm. She pulled off and raised her face to the man above her, breathily pleading, “Helios, please.”

The shadow of Helios dropped to lie back on the grass. Moving himself forward on his hands, he slid his legs between Alator’s spread knees to position himself just below Gwen. Merlin’s balls pulled tight to his body as he watched the three of them work together to ease Helios inside. Fuck, Alator had been fucking her in the arse.

Slippery fingers slid into the crease between Merlin’s own cheeks, and he parted his legs immediately to let them in. He slowed the movement of his hips and kept his thrusts into Arthur’s mouth shallow as a slick digit wormed its way into his needy hole. Breath stuttering, he reached back with both hands and spread the pucker of his arse to ease the way. Arthur’s finger pushed deeper, then pulled out before pushing in again.

This time when Merlin looked Gwen’s way, he noticed two fully dressed men heading toward her from the path. He heard one of them say “Gwen?” and Gwen’s responding half sigh, half chuckle. In less than thirty seconds after they deviated from the path, one man had grabbed hold of her dark curls and turned her head to face him, stuffing his cock down her throat until choking sounds reached Merlin’s ears. The other man stood nearby, his hand a blur as it stroked his cock and prodded the outside of her cheek.

Beneath her, Helios’s hands latched onto her perky arse and spread her just as Merlin was spreading himself. Viewing from the side, Merlin saw Gwen let her body be used as nothing but a fuck toy, and moaned as Arthur mercilessly fingerfucked his arse.

“Take off your clothes,” Arthur said hoarsely, slipping his finger free.

Merlin obeyed instantly. He stepped out of his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, pulled his legs out of his jeans. Arthur undressed as well, laying his suit jacket across the grass. He lay down on top of it propped up on an elbow, one hand stroking his cock as he waited for Merlin.

Merlin straddled him as soon as his second leg was free of his jeans. One hand on Arthur’s chest and one holding Arthur’s dick, he eased himself down, panting, moaning as he slowly forced it in.

 _God, that feels so good. God, G—_ “Ahh,” Merlin sighed. “Fuck.” He rose and sank down again, rolling his hips forward when his thighs met Arthur’s and taking it as deep as he could. “ _Oh yes_.”

His desire spiking, Merlin lifted his hips and slammed back down, knocking his bony arse into Arthur’s pelvis. He did it again, forcing Arthur’s cock in to the base to impale himself on it. He was going to be sore and there were going to be bruises, and he was pretty sure that Arthur knew it as well and that neither of them cared.

Desperately taking his pleasure on Arthur’s cock, Merlin couldn’t believe the height of what he was feeling. It felt so piercingly good, was such intensely acute euphoria. He’d never had sex this good before.

_I’ve never let myself do this before._

It was true Merlin had never let himself go and act so...unrestrained. So wild and needy. It would be embarrassing to behave like that, without the dignity to hold back. Yet that was exactly what he was doing now, as he’d always secretly wanted to do—he chased the pleasure like he was unable to help himself, like he couldn’t get enough.

Then Arthur thrust upward and Merlin cried out, repeating the noise when Arthur jerked his hips up a second time. He rode the steady up and down of Arthur’s cock, gasping as he tried to get enough air.

“Fuck, Arthur, you’re—that’s—so good,” he said breathlessly.

“Switch places and I’ll fuck you harder.”

Merlin didn’t stop at first, reluctant to let Arthur leave him empty, but at last he let Arthur slip free. Arthur shuffled from under him and Merlin dropped to take his place, lying in the warmed suit jacket across the grass. Rough hands pushed his knees up and farther apart, and he felt Arthur stretch out above him as his cockhead nudged into the cleft of his arse.

“ _Oh_ fuck,” Merlin gasped at the entry. Arthur pulled him up by the hips until he was on his knees, his upper torso still sprawled out over half jacket, half grass. Merlin panted, half growling in his madness, as Arthur fucked him hard, fast, and unforgivingly forceful.

Merlin’s body rocked with it, the repeatedly hard shock of Arthur lodging deep inside him, and he loved it. He wanted to savour it like chocolate yet stuff himself full as fast as he could because he was so hungry for it. His lust, his need to be satiated, had never held sway over him so powerfully.

Then Merlin began to feel like he was about to come and things started to get strange. The candles from the path threw dancing shadows over the garden, the foliage, shadows that began to look like contorted, demonic forms. The ivy, inescapable, hanging from everywhere, seemed to twist and squirm, breathing, tangling itself up. Merlin closed his eyes, pushing down the terror threatening to rise.

 _Not there,_ he told himself. _Imagining it._

The sounds of orgy in the garden turned even more wild than before, increasing in volume until the whole courtyard seemed to reverberate with choruses of sighs, screams of shameless delight. With his eyes still squeezed shut, Merlin felt wrapped up in the madness, swallowed whole and churning in the stomach of sin.

Arthur’s hands roamed over his skin, bringing him back to their shared moment. He concentrated on the movements of Arthur’s body with his, the harshness of Arthur’s breaths. Arthur’s fingers dug into his hair, nails scratching his scalp, and twisted, jerked his head back.

Merlin tilted his hips forward because something told him Arthur was getting ready to hammer into him. He wasn’t wrong.

Caught in the maelstrom of ecstasy, Merlin couldn’t help the moan that was pulled from him as Arthur rammed into his prostate again and again. His throat started to feel hoarse and he realised it was because he was screaming, “YES, YES, YES!”

Finally, the tension in Merlin’s groin built to the point of eruption, pulsing heat shooting up the length of his cock. He trembled as he came in thick spurts onto Arthur’s jacket; he felt like his whole body was vibrating, his soul seeping out of his skin.

Another few sharp, deep thrusts later, Arthur stopped and emptied his load inside. Merlin relaxed his brow, sighing contentedly as he felt Arthur give a final little jerk of his hips to fuck his come-filled hole one last time. It was as Arthur left kisses across the breadth of Merlin’s shoulders that Merlin thought he heard close to his ear, “ _Mine_.”

****

“The lift, Merlin,” Arthur said.

Merlin knew the lift was on their floor. He leaned back in to keep kissing Arthur anyway.

Arthur pushed Merlin up against the wall of the lift hard enough to send it rocking in the shaft. The railing dug into Merlin’s back and he winced. A second later, Arthur’s mouth was pressed painfully against his. His tongue snaked its way inside and he set to devouring Merlin whole.

Moaning, Merlin used the railing to his advantage and dropped some of his weight onto it. He held Arthur’s face in his hands and twirled his tongue around the one that met his.

_mine_

_mine_

_mine mine mine_

Merlin pulled away at last, smiling. “I’m so glad I never have to be without this.”

Arthur smiled back at him like he was indulging a child. “The lift, Merlin.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Oh, alright.” He took Arthur’s hand and turned around to pull the door back.

They were nearing Merlin’s door when he said, “Oh, shit, I’ve forgotten my key.”

“That’s alright. There’s a skeleton key that’ll let you in. But why don’t we do that in the morning?” Arms wrapped around Merlin’s middle from behind, pulling his body back into a possessive embrace. “You could sleep with me tonight.”

“I could,” Merlin said. “I want to.”

 _Wait, wasn’t there something I was supposed to do tomorrow?_ he thought as Arthur led him across the corridor to Room 1485. _I was trying to reach someone, I think. I was supposed to be somewhere._

Arthur opened the door and Merlin lost his train of thought. “That’s kind of cool I got the suite right across from the owner,” Merlin said.

Arthur grinned as he closed the door behind them. “As soon as you walked in, I knew I wanted you close.”

Merlin furrowed his brow. “I don’t think I understand. Walked in?”

“Don’t worry about it, Merlin.”

Arthur kissed him softly and suddenly Merlin felt like he was floating, the world around him drifting in and out of focus. He was no longer standing in front of Arthur, but lying on a bed. It was so soft, and Merlin wanted to melt into it.

“Just rest for now.”

Merlin’s eyes were closing as he saw the figures emerge from the shadows, encircling him with blades that gleamed just as brightly as Arthur’s smile.


	4. You Can Check Out Any Time You Like, But...

The sun was in the sky when Merlin woke up. He blinked and raised a hand to rub his eyes. His whole body was sore.

He was shivering. He sat up and saw the red blanket under him was threadbare and faded. Puzzled, he looked around.

Where was he? The walls of the room were crumbling, and as Merlin took in his surroundings, he realised the whole building was. Cobwebs spanned the corners; the door frame stood mostly on its own; the hole in the ceiling above revealed that Merlin wasn’t on the top floor by far, but on one of the much lower levels.

What happened?

He turned to look for Arthur, needing to see something familiar from the past few hours, and found only…

Only…

“AHHHH!”

Merlin jumped out of the bed, away from the clothed skeleton. His stomach was in knots, his heart about to jump out of his chest, and he almost cried when he felt hot piss running down his leg. He didn’t know what was going on but he was getting the hell out. He bolted for the door and set about searching for the exit.

_Jesus, the whole building. The whole fucking building. It’s a fucking ruin._

Ivy covered the walls, snaking along the corridors and twisting its way into all the available cracks. It seemed to strangle the building and yet cling to it to survive, breathing in barely-there life energy. Merlin ran through the labyrinth of hallways, screaming in frustration when he reached dead ends, all the while with the terrible certainty in his chest that something was coming after him.

 _Light!_ he thought gleefully at last, seeing light pouring in from above through an upstairs window. He ran for the room below and started piling furniture together to reach the floor above and get out.

“Was the room not to your satisfaction, Merlin?”

Merlin’s blood turned to ice. A shiver of dread running down his spine, he turned on his heel and saw Kilgharrah, the old man still in his faded brown shirt and trousers.

“Kilgharrah. Are you… What’s going on?” Merlin asked warily. He wished he had something to defend himself with, but didn’t know if a physical weapon would do him any good.

“Do you know where you are?”

“I’m at—Well, I thought I was at Hotel Camelot.”

“Yes. And do you remember drinking the wine offering?”

“The wine? What about it?”

“The wine, in the ceremonial chalice.” The image rushed to Merlin’s mind, the golden chalice he’d thought was obscenely posh, full to the brim with deep red wine. “The food offering.” Merlin could still remember the savoury taste of the chicken, the vegetables, the delicious cake. “The ritual.” Springing to mind came the writhing bodies of entwined lovers in the garden, faint echoes of the screams ringing in Merlin’s ears. “Do you remember any of that, Merlin?”

Merlin shook his head, frowning. “This is...” He looked up at Kilgharrah and yelled, “Look, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but I’m leaving!”

Merlin didn’t see Kilgharrah come closer; he was just suddenly there, in front of Merlin’s face.

“Relax,” he said. “Your room is ready for you.”

Merlin turned and went back to his task, quickly scrambling up the chair, chest of drawers, and wardrobe he’d arranged into a makeshift staircase to the storey above. After hoisting himself up, he walked to the window and prayed it would open.

“Come on,” Merlin muttered angrily, using all the strength he had to get the window to budge the slightest bit. Eventually, it gave way, and after that, Merlin crouched to push it up the rest of the way. He briefly considered the distance to the ground before hitching a leg over the windowsill and positioning himself to jump.

He landed badly on one ankle and was surprised when it didn’t hurt as badly as he thought it would. As he got up and started running around the side toward his car, he realised it didn’t hurt at all.

His red Kia was still the only car there. Now Merlin was dismayed to see that the elegant building he’d seen the night before was nothing but a rundown, barely-standing brick and stone structure, half reclaimed by nature. He wiped his tears and searched his pockets for his car keys.

Finally, he was leaving this place behind. He started the car and pulled out of the lot, tyres kicking up dust behind him. He reeked of urine and sweat, but the sun was shining, the open country was beautiful, and most importantly, he was alive.

After less than two minutes driving down the road, he screamed at the top of his lungs in anger.

Hotel Camelot was coming up again, no longer crumbling and old, but as strong and stunning as Merlin had first seen it. In fact, it was even more impressive in the light of day, not nearly so ominous as during a thunderstorm. It seemed more welcoming than ever.

Merlin squealed to a stop, turned the car around, and drove the other way. He watched his rearview mirror until the hotel’s turrets disappeared under the horizon line. When he dropped his eyes down to look ahead again, the turrets were slowly rising, until the building once more came into sight.

Merlin stopped the car, applied the brake, and got out. Without turning off the engine, or even closing the door, he ran off the road into the open field.

“Merlin.”

It was Arthur’s voice Merlin heard behind him as his speed reached full-on sprint. Still, he didn’t stop.

Someone was standing in the field up ahead. Merlin thought about turning, but decided against it. As he approached, he saw it was Arthur. Merlin found he was both anxious and eager to reach him.

Instead of jeans and a red cardigan with a brown suit jacket, he was in a white tunic and black trousers, a long black coat falling to his feet. He watched Merlin running as though Merlin were an idiot bird beating its head repeatedly against the wall.

“Personally, I thought we worked really well together,” Arthur said calmly as Merlin ran by him.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t too long until Arthur appeared to be coming up again.

“You know, I don’t _have_ to trap all the guilty souls that wander into my domain. I only take the ones I want,” Arthur added when Merlin passed him the second time.

The next time: “Okay, some of them I just took so the others would have something to play with. But imagine if all the disgusting, dimwitted fools who came tramping through…”

And the next: “...point is, you’re special. I want you, Merlin. Badly. And like it or not, you’re already mine. We’re outside time here. You’ve been dead for weeks.”

Merlin stopped in his tracks, a few yards ahead of Arthur. He finally broke down, crying for all that he’d lost—his mum, his friends, his university, his life, his future. His world. Now there was just Hotel Camelot. Now there was just Arthur.

He paid Arthur no attention when he stepped in front of him. It wasn’t until Arthur gently lifted his chin and made him look up that he dared to stare into Arthur’s face, tears still falling.

There seemed to be endless knowledge in Arthur’s bright blue eyes, yet a quiet storm as well. His look was tempered steel, and Merlin knew it wasn’t just some haunted hotel he’d found himself in last night. Arthur was some sort of entity reigning in another world, an entity that collected souls to populate his own realm. The souls of sinners.

 _They introduced themselves with their sin,_ Merlin realised of the previous night in the lounge. _That’s what Gwaine meant when he said Freya drove the Lust and Greed people mad._

He didn’t have to think too hard about what his own sin was.

“Don’t you want what we had last night forever, Merlin? Aren’t you still glad you never have to be without it?” Arthur whispered against Merlin’s lips. He kissed them softly, more softly than Merlin expected. Merlin felt the pressure behind his crying eyes dissolve, and the tears stopped. “Food, drink, sex. I can give you pleasure like you’ve never imagined. And it never has to end.”

Arthur’s voice was intoxicating, his touch even more so. Merlin whimpered, melting into Arthur’s embrace and giving in to heartfelt kisses.

 _I can never leave anyway,_ he thought, beginning to feel numbed to the fact. _I can indulge as much as I want here without consequence, and Arthur seems to genuinely like me. It seems like Hell, but... it’s not. It’s somewhere else. It could even be Heaven if I let it._

“What are you?” Merlin asked, raising his head. “How old are you? What’s your real name?”

Arthur cracked half a smile, eyes twinkling. He took hold of Merlin’s hand and started leading him back to the hotel.

“Let others worry about what I am. To you, Merlin, I’m just Arthur.”


End file.
